


Behind His Smiling Face

by Valgus



Series: Words of Nations [4]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Drabble, Light Angst, M/M, No relationship because they're not exactly lovers though they do talk about love.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 08:30:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3844135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valgus/pseuds/Valgus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So, Italy, what kind of lover do you want?”</p><p>“I want someone who won’t die before me. So… if you become my lover, Germany, can you promise me that you won’t absolutely die before me?”</p><p>It can be lonely being a country.</p><p>But Germany felt like there was a particular nation that was lonelier than others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind His Smiling Face

The first time Germany heard Italy talking about love was at the end of a world meeting. He was chatting with France and Germany didn’t feel like disturbing, especially with such heavy atmosphere in the air.

He didn’t hear much and he didn’t plan to, but Germany heard about how France had to apologise for ending a certain nation life.

Germany could hear Italy sobbed.

Italy said there was nothing to be forgiven, because they were just nation instead of leader.

Germany could hear the name of the said country even when they said nothing about the vanished nation.

***

After the meeting ended and all the nations left the building, Italy tagged along with Germany as usual. After Italy’s talk with France, the auburn-haired nation was more talkative than usual. Seeing Italy tried so much to look happy made Germany’s chest hurt for some reason.

It was sad to see someone who was usually so cheerful trying so hard to look like he was cheery.

Before he realised it, Germany asked Italy to dine with him on one of the best Italian restaurant in town. Being nation and all, Germany had the privilege to order the best spot on the restaurant with no prior notice.

Yet Italy seemed to notice nothing but his own thought.

Germany watched Italy the entire time they ate their _antipasto_. Italy seemed to remember to be loud and chattering again when they enjoyed their _primo piatto_. But his energy seemed to run out when they was served the _secondo piatto_. Only when they finished _dolce_ then Germany decided he needed to talk.

He started awkwardly with talking about economy and infrastructure, but then Italy decided he wanted to remember the time they were trying to sneak into England’s camp and Italy somehow talked about marriage and divorce.

“Love can be complicated, even for human who doesn’t live that long compared to us,” Germany coughed.

Italy nodded, smiling with a smile that didn’t reach his honey-coloured eyes, “But love is beautiful! I want the world to have more love! That’s why I try to spread love to every _bella_ I met!”

Germany swore he would strangle Italy if he wasn’t sitting politely on a high-class restaurant.

“Well, you seem to hit every woman in sight… don’t you have any type of romantic partner you’re looking for?” the blond nation muttered, more to himself than to the shorter of the two.

Italy looked at Germany. He seemed a little taken aback. Germany could feel his cheeks heated.

“Don’t get me wrong! I’m just looking for reference about love and its gesture! A-as you know, my people don’t exactly have a lot of gesture of love—“

Italy just smiled understandingly and Germany felt shiver on his spine. Sometimes, even just the shorter nation presence can be extremely relaxing, if not distracting. And his smile… Germany could feel the chill he felt whenever he entered old architectures in Italy.

“So, Italy, what kind of lover do you want? I-I mean, if you don’t want to answer it, it’s fine! I don’t mean to pry, really…” the blue-eyed nation fidgeted on his seat, trying to look anywhere but to the male seating in front of him.

But Italy smiled at him once again. There was sadness on his amber eyes and he looked like he wanted to cry as he answered.

“I want someone who won’t die before me. So… if you become my lover, Germany, can you promise me that you won’t absolutely die before me?”

Germany felt his throat dried.

What was one supposed to say to such question?

Before Germany could even process on the best thing he could say in such situation, Italy already shook his head and chuckled.

“It’s a silly thing,” the auburn-haired nation was still smiling, even chuckling slightly as he spoke. “No one knows their end. Not even us countries. It’s just my selfish wish to ask for such thing.” Italy stood up and put his money on the table, “Well then, I better off. I’ll see you on the next world meeting, Germany.”

Italy left before Germany could muster a single word.

Germany sat there, feeling his chest throbbed with pain. Italy might said that it was just a silly thing, but Germany knew that the Southern European nation was being serious. He knew Italy. They had been friends for a long time.

_I want someone who won’t die before me._

So that’s why Italy love everyone yet take no one as his special one. He couldn’t. He simply couldn’t, because no one can promise him that they won’t ever perish before him.

_Can you promise me that you won’t absolutely die before me?_

Even a nation as strong as Germany couldn’t promise such thing.

It can be lonely being a country.

Swimming through time with such intense memory and burden being personification of a nation.

It can indeed be lonely being a country.

But Germany felt like there was a particular nation that was lonelier than others.

**Author's Note:**

> As far as I know, the formal Italian meal goes by order of antipasto (before the meal), primo piatto (often consisting pasta), secondo piatto (main course, often consisting meat or fish), and then dolce (dessert).
> 
> Anyway, I’m a sucker for angst. I’m so sorry.
> 
> One day I re-watch all the seasons of Hetalia and thought, “What if despite all that, Italy never have any romantic feeling towards Germany? He’s just a flirty person after all.” So that makes this piece.
> 
> I’m truly sorry.
> 
> I do want to write happy, fluffy GerIta, I swear, but somehow I always end up writing things like this.
> 
> Thank you for reading this.


End file.
